


Open Up

by prompt_fills



Category: Men's Football RPF
Genre: Alternate Universe, Alternate Universe - Neighbors, Christmas, Fluff and Humor, Getting Together, M/M, Mistletoe, Neighbors
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-01-01
Updated: 2019-01-01
Packaged: 2019-10-02 07:50:33
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,140
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17260391
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/prompt_fills/pseuds/prompt_fills
Summary: Sergio pounds on the door with his one free hand. “Open up, it’s urgent!”AKA the one where Sergio refuses to spend Christmas alone, even if that means spending it with his grumpy neighbour Iker.





	Open Up

**Author's Note:**

  * For [madridog (Cirilla9)](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Cirilla9/gifts).



> Written for [this](https://footballkinkmeme.dreamwidth.org/887.html?thread=94583#cmt94583) lovely prompt on the [kinkmeme](https://footballkinkmeme.dreamwidth.org/887.html).

Sergio pounds on the door with his one free hand. “Open up, it’s urgent!”

Predictably, there is no answer but Sergio keeps knocking, none too gently, to cause enough havoc to have the resident that is very definitely inside come answer the door.

It only takes five minutes for the door to creak open. Sergio immediately shoves his foot into the narrow space and says, excitedly, “Hi, hello, wow, it’s lovely to see you. I thought, I haven’t seen you in five days and in fact no one has seen you this week, it’s not like I asked around or anything, just, you know, other people never mention you in conversation, and I thought, well, since you haven’t left your flat, I thought you’re either sulking or your body is decomposing and trust me, Mrs. Vieira would not appreciate the smell. So I thought it would be nice to come check on you and since it’s Christmas and all, I thought it would be rude to come in empty handed.”

Sergio doesn’t stop talking as he shoves his shoulder into the door and squeezes his head inside, not at all discouraged by his neighbour’s frowning face.

“Who is Mrs. Vieira?”

Sergio raises an eyebrow. “Seriously, dude? You’ve only lived here for what, seven months and you have no idea who is your downstairs neighbour?” Sergio clucks his tongue. “Shame on you man, shame on you.”

“Do you ever stop talking?”

“Nope? I mean, not when there is so much to talk about. Like, would you believe they cancelled all the flights today due to the heavy snowfall? I guess it’s my fault that I wanted to fly in today and not sooner but man, I’ve got work to do and I refuse, I absolutely refuse to work when I’m back home. My mum always says, Sergio, you–”

“What did you want?”

Sergio takes the rude interruption in stride. “Well, see, here’s the thing. Like I was just explaining to you, my plane–”

“You said it was urgent.”

Sergio ignores the accusatory tone. “And it is! _Very_ urgent. Because I am not going to spend Christmas alone. And, my dear friend, neither are you.”

“I’m not your friend, we’ve barely ever spoken.” That’s a mistake Sergio is here to make up for. Wisely, he doesn’t say it just yet. The grumpy neighbour stresses one again, “Now leave,” but it’s too late. Sergio is already past the doorstep and he’s not leaving because even a grumpy neighbour is better than his pitifully empty flat. Plus, the neighbour is pretty damn easy on the eyes, so there’s that. “Did you hear a word that I’ve said?”

“Nope. I chose not to hear your negativity.” Sergio is already unpacking the dinner. There’s soup and there’s the main course and even dessert and some Christmas cookies and okay, those are a bit too crumbly and none of it is like his mother’s cooking but he tried. He tried real hard and nothing caught on fire which Sergio figures is a success in itself.

“Are you for real?”

“Not sure, I might be the spirit of Christmas,” Sergio teases. When he chances a look at his neighbour, he is faced with a truly impressive bitch face so he hurries to add, “Dude, are you seriously saying no to free food? Free food that’s delivered to your doorstep? What’s wrong with you?”

“I want you to leave.”

“If you’re worried, I’d have you know that half of this is ready-made food, and even I can follow simple instructions of adding water and heating it up and mixing it well so I can promise you it’s edible.” Sergio sticks one finger into the mashed potatoes he’s just placed on the kitchen counter, scoops some of it up and shoves it into his mouth for the taste. “Not only it’s edible, I’d even say it’s pretty good.”

He counts it as victory when his grumpy neighbour closes the front door and follows Sergio into the kitchen.

“Your name is Iker, right?” Sergio saw the name on the doorbell – the doorbell he didn’t use because pounding on the door had higher chance of success. The guy doesn’t protest the name so Sergio figures it’s something he’s welcome to use rather than a leftover from the previous tenant. Iker. It’s a nice name. “I’m Sergio.”

“Hi Sergio. Nice to meet you. Now please leave.”

“No can do. Marcelo and his wife – that’s Mrs. Vieira for you – have gone away for the holidays, the kids wanted a bit more sun. Personally, I can’t blame them, the weather here is awful and like I was saying, my flight won’t be taking off anytime soon so I won’t be with my family so there’s no way I’m leaving you here to spend the holidays alone. See? Totally urgent.” To his credit, Iker seems to be able to follow Sergio’s train of thought without suffering from a whiplash and not many people can do that. Sergio scoops up some of the mashed potatoes again but he stops when he finds the neighbour’s eyes glaring daggers at him. “Uh. Want some?”

“No. Thanks,” Iker says in a clipped tone.

“Suit yourself,” Sergio mumbles around his finger, licking it clean. “It always takes better when you’re not supposed to eat it. Anyway. Where can I leave the presents?” He looks around the flat, truly taking it in for the first time. It’s so bare it hurts. There’s no tree. There’s no decorations. There’s _nothing_ that would remind them it’s Christmas, holy shit.

“Presents?” Iker spits out the word like a curse.

“Yes, don’t sound so incredulous. Presents. You know, the things you buy as small tokens of your affection for your loved ones to see smiles blossoming on their faces?”

Iker rolls his eyes. “I know what presents are,” he starts.

“Oh, thank god,” Sergio breathes out, genuinely relieved.

“I just don’t understand why you’d be bringing _me_ presents.”

“To show my affections?” He wilts at the death glare Iker gives him. “Okay, okay, I thought it would butter you up so I bought you something nice to compensate for having to bear with my presence.”

“Oh,” Iker looks surprised. “That’s very thoughtful of you.”

“Thank you!” Sergio beams, feeling vindicated.

“However,” Iker goes on and Sergio’s smile drops, “I don’t have a tree. Or stockings. Or a log. Or anything, really.”

“Oh my god!” Sergio yelps. “Are you serious?”

Iker gestures around the flat. “Do you see anything festive?”

“Well, no. But I was hoping my eyes were deceiving me. Or that you only decorated your living room or _something_.”

“There are no decorations at all,” Iker confirms Sergio’s worst fears.

“Oh my god, you Grinch,” Sergio groans, turning to the kitchen counter and hastily putting all the things he’s brought with him back into the bags. “That won’t fly. I can’t do this. No way.”

He doesn’t miss the way Iker’s face darkens, mouth twisting into a grimace.

He packs up the food, grabs the cookies, snatches back the two pineapples and a coconut he’s placed in Iker’s fruit bowl.

Unimpressed, Iker watches him with his arms folded on his chest so he’s in no way prepared for it when Sergio storms past him, shifting one of the bags so it’s hanging off his elbow and wrapping one arm around Iker and taking Iker with him to the door.

“What are you doing?” Iker yelps, trying to twist out of Sergio’s hold but Sergio only tightens his grip and marches them out of Iker’s flat.

“I’m kidnapping you.”

There is a twitch of a smile on Iker’s face, Sergio notes proudly.

It’s just a matter of time to get them across the hall, unlock the door to Sergio’s flat and steer Iker into the dining room.

“Wow,” Iker says. “You… like Christmas, don’t you.”

“I might have gone a little overboard, I admit,” Sergio says, switching on the lights on the Christmas tree. And on the window sill. And in the hallway. “Don’t go anywhere, I’ll get the food ready.” He puts on the Christmas carols as a background noise and then he heads into the kitchen where he starts unpacking everything again. “If I knew you were on a rally against Christmas, I’d have just gotten straight into the kidnapping and saved myself the time,” he hollers from the kitchen to the dining room.

“You could have just asked me over to your place,” Iker points out. “If the decorations matter so much to you.”

“It sets the atmosphere. And I couldn’t. You wouldn’t have come,” Sergio tells him and it’s not a question. Iker doesn’t even try to deny it. Sergio gets out his fine china and his fancy glasses and then he almost brains himself with a bottle opener but he manages to get the cork unscrewed and the kitchen light survives a direct hit, so Sergio mentally pats himself on the back and pours them each a glass. “I hope you like red wine,” he calls out and startles when Iker responds, voice much closer than it was before.

“Actually, I do.”

Sergio turns around and Iker is standing in the doorway to the kitchen, looking at Sergio with curious eyes. He’s looking damn fine, even though he’s not wearing a Christmas sweater but Sergio suspected Iker wouldn’t which is why one of the presents he got for Iker is one fugly Christmas sweater, harsh red colour with white snowflakes and a bunch of reindeer dashing across the chest and Sergio can’t wait to see how Iker fills it out. He gulps and grabs the two glasses. “I told you to stay put,” he mutters. “Here, take your glass and wait for me, everything’s almost ready,” Sergio hands Iker the glass, their fingers brushing, sending warmth all over Sergio’s body.

“That you did. But I got bored all alone. Didn’t you say you didn’t want me to stay alone for Christmas?”

“Me,” Sergio stresses. “I didn’t want for _me_ to be alone.

“Well congrats, you’re not alone anymore.”

“Good,” Sergio says. “Because leaving me on my own is a disaster waiting to happen.”

“I’d imagine,” Iker says, amused and hey, Sergio didn’t mean for that to be funny but since it’s Christmas and since Iker’s smile is so sweet, Sergio generously decides to forgive him.

He nudges Iker to go back into the dining room but the guy refuses to budge and Sergio huffs. “What now?”

“I can’t go just yet,” Iker says. His eyes are an incredibly warm shade of brown, Sergio never noticed before. There are flecks of gold and the outer rim is darker, like hot chocolate and Sergio loves hot chocolate. He sways closer and Iker is radiating warmth and Sergio never wants to leave, Iker doesn’t even have to keep him there with the light touch on his arm _and_ the firm touch on his back but boy, is it nice to be held like that.

“Of course not,” Sergio scoffs. “There’s food and wine and cookies and presents and don’t you think you can get out of watching _Home Alone_ with me. I meant watching it with me. The film, _Home Alone_.”

“Uh-huh,” Iker says, sounding more and more amused by the minute. Sergio _knew_ the grumpiness was just a façade. “I just meant that I can’t move from this spot until you kiss me.”

Sergio splutters.

“I didn’t make the rules,” Iker says cheerfully. He withdraws one hand from Sergio’s back – damn shame, that is – and points up above them. “And I most certainly didn’t hang the mistletoe above the door.”

“Oh,” Sergio breathes out, gaze catching on Iker’s lips. “Good thing I did.” There’s a very definite smile on Iker’s lips right now and Sergio won’t get a better invitation than this so he leans in to close the distance between them with a kiss. He slowly moves his lips across Iker’s, taking his time and making the kiss last. If Iker thought it would be over with a quick peck to his lips, he’s sorely mistaken. Sergio won’t let a chance like this escape. When he pulls away, it’s only to specify, “I meant that it’s a good thing I hung up the mistletoe. I didn’t make the rules.”

Iker chuckles, the hot breath tickling Sergio’s jaw. “Yes, it’s a good thing you did.”

Sergio kisses him again.

“What about the dinner,” Iker protests but Sergio has never been less interested in food.

“I’ll make you forget about the dinner,” Sergio grumbles.

“You’re welcome to try,” Iker says but it’s him who wraps his arms around Sergio and presses him close. “I’m glad you kidnapped me,” he admits.

Sergio smirks. “Well, I’m glad you’ve been too much of a grump for anyone to pay the ransom.”

Iker silences him with another kiss.


End file.
